


Not a Meatsuit

by Malcontent_Ash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Post-Ezekiel | Gadreel, Soul Damage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6933418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malcontent_Ash/pseuds/Malcontent_Ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel had safety-pinned the worst of it back together after the trials, but he had been neither careful nor kind.  When Gabriel tries reaching out to the Winchesters after the angels are kicked from heaven, he finds the younger Winchester outright hostile.  The Sam who smiled at a janitor's dirty jokes is gone, replaced by sharp edges and distrust in the wake of Gadreel and Lucifer.</p><p>When Sam gets hurt, Gabe has to convince him to try saying yes just one more time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Meatsuit

         The appearance and disappearance of angels is not unlike the momentary sensation of weightlessness at the end of an elevator ride.  There’s a moment of heaviness, immediately proceeded by the panicked energy of falling.  The sensation is not known to all, but for those who have a delicate constitution, or who have had opportunity to understand the significance of such an event, the effect is extraordinary. 

         In this case, one significant disturbance of air in the Men of Letters base of operations resulted in the drawing of one gun, one demon-slaying dagger, the dagger of an angel of the lord and the near silent scraping of three padded mahogany chairs against crystal smooth marble.

         “…Oh c’mon kiddos.  Knives?  I thought we were past all that.  I’ve seen the company you keep and I can’t be that much worse than the King of Hell.”  Gabriel had suddenly appeared, standing at the head of the table where the Winchesters and Castiel had been researching.  Dean’s chair wobbled momentarily before finally falling to the floor behind him.  Sam startled at the sound.

         “No seriously.  I’m a little out of date after my sabbatical—any resemblance to death exaggerated or purely coincidental—But _wow-ee_ boys.”  Gabriel grinned winningly at Sam and finding no appreciation turned to Cas.

         “Gabriel?”  Castiel cautiously reached forward, doing what the Winchesters could only comprehend as feeling Gabriel’s face with the palm of his hand.  They were only mortal after all.

         “Just me baby bro.  Unfortunately, that’s got a tiny bit to do with why I’m here.  Metatron outed me to the God squad after he started playing with God’s toys.  Funny thing I realized after I left the tropics: _apparently_ sweet baby Cas is playing in the major league now.  Between Heaven’s most eligible bachelor and America’s most wanted, I figured we could have a slumber party and wait until all this blows over.  Me and Cas… I mean.  You two will be dust before that sociopathic poindexter has his fill of wearing daddy’s shoes.”

         “How did you find us?  The bunker is warded.  Even I struggle to find it.”  At that Dean shots a surprised look at Cas which Cas responds to with an overemphasized shrug. 

         “ _Cute._ ”  Gabriel studies Cas, utterly nonplussed before taking a moment to take in his surroundings.  Books are strewn around the giant oak tables, even setting in piles on the white marble surrounding them.  The walls are covered with books as well, somewhat haphazardly leaning at odd angles where shelfmates had been removed to join piles around the room.  Gabriel turns to Sam.

         “I just had to follow my nose to dear old Sam here,” Gabriel teased, but his eyes remained flat.  Sam’s face was lined and he’d lost a great deal of weight.  Spiritually, he’d been horrible to look at since Lucifer had ridden Sam into the cage.  Not that his soul was much of a prize before that…  Now there was a discoloration around the frayed edges.  If Gabriel stood still enough he could hear it.  It was a jagged melodical tearing, like pentatonic scales on a xylophone from hell.

         “Me?”  Sam asked, possibly for the third time considering the furrowed brow thing he was doing which generally indicated to Gabe that he was revving up his menstrual cycle.  Sam seemed to think that Gabriel was intentionally ignoring him as he listened to the man’s soul.

         “Oh, Sammy.  You wound me.  Six months of rattling around in that head of yours.  Another year if you count all the false starts.  (No hard feelings Dean-o.)” 

         Dean’s face twisted with betrayal as he looked to Sam.  Gabriel gasped with delight.

         “What’s he talkin’ about, Sam?”  Mouth slightly agape, Sam turned to Gabriel who mocked shock in return.  Dean resettled the gun in his hands.

         “You never told him about our time together?”  Gabriel sighed dramatically, “Ohh… it was _magical._ ”  Unseen to Dean, Gabriel’s feathers ruffled slightly and Castiel went ramrod straight in response.

         “Gabriel…” Castiel growled, deep into tones the Winchesters could barely hear and beyond.

         “For the first ten times anyway.  Oh, the first twenty.  Never really liked Dean.  But then it went _on_ and _on_ and _on_.  We really had something special by the end of it there.”  Dean continued to glance between Sam and Gabriel, with pained anger.  Like a sudden crack of lightening, Gabriel’s humor was gone.  Unconsciously, Castiel took a step back.  Gabriel’s voice dropped an octave.

         “You never really got the message though.  _So here we are_.”  Gabriel looked momentarily surprised and then scratched his stomach.  Returning to the previous mood at whiplash speed, he walked past Dean.  “Got anything to eat?”

         “So, what?  God’s attack dog sniffed Sammy out?” Dean probes Cas, and a voice comes muted from the kitchen.

         “Ooh, Catty.  _Woof._ ”  They can hear Gabriel rummaging through the cabinets and throwing things on the floor.

         “Dean,” Cas warns lightly, frowning.

         “No Cas.  Get him out of here or I will, so help me god.”  He shoots Sam their father’s best ‘we’re going to talk about this later’ look, which with John Winchester typically meant a rather one-sided conversation. 

         “Look, if anyone’s got issues with him, it’s me.  And before you ask, he’s talking about all the Tuesdays you died and the six months after that he let me live with you dead.  It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.” 

         “Well that explains how well you dealt with it the last time.”

         “ _Dean.”_ Cas warned him louder than before, gripping his shoulder.  Dean could feel his foot on the landmine he’d just stepped on, but stupidly, angrily, he waited for the blow.  Sam just exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw clenching and unclenching as the fire petered out. 

         “Fuck you, Dean.”  It was the last airy huff from Sam’s mouth before he stormed off.

         Sam was angry.  He could feel the bottomless pit inside him, full of fire and brimstone and burning anger inside that used to scare him, but right now it seemed distant.  After Lucifer, and more recently Gadreel, he was tired.  As a show of control he closed the door to his room gently, before toeing off his shoes and falling into bed.  He had confidence that Gabriel wouldn’t hurt them in any way that stuck, so he left Cas and Dean to deal with whatever game the archangel wanted to play.  Sam shifted in his bed and fifty year old springs screeched in complaint.  He folded his cheap pillow in half under his head and eventually fell asleep.

 

         It was still early when Sam rolled out of bed, or so his clock told him…  The bunker couldn’t afford a dangerous luxury like natural light.  The entire base was one giant panic room, likely build as much for monster protection as atomic warfare. 

         Sam padded down to the locker room to shower before breakfast.  Gabriel was leaning against one of the white porcelain sinks when Sam opened the door.  Nonplussed, Sam grabbed a dark brown threadbare towel from a rack.  It was one of the few possessions Sam had, older than several years and looked it.  He hung it on the hook by the showers.  With a twist, cool water poured from the faucet like rain.  Thick streams of water rumbled against the floor and echoed off the walls.  It would take several seconds to get warm, but neither Sam nor Dean took water pressure for granted.  Without sparing Gabriel another look, Sam tugged yesterday’s t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.  In a practiced gesture, he combed the fly-aways back behind his ears with his palms.

         “Ignore me too much longer Sammy and I’ll get quite the show.”  Despite his teasing, Gabriel’s voice was laced with emotion and like the last few times they’d spoken, Sam had no idea what that was supposed to mean.  It didn’t really matter though.  Sam arched his back and shoulders in a stretch, the thick corded muscles of his back rolling as he reached his arms up. 

         “Whatever you want with me?  It can wait.”  He tugged his jeans open before sliding both his jeans and boxes to his ankles before sliding them off.  Gabriel gaped a little watching his ass.

         “You’ve changed.”  Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise and finally Sam turned and shot him a look.  He stood tall in front of Gabriel, unashamed, and he looked down at Gabe from over a squared jaw, challengingly.  He was taller he had been when they met a couple years ago but just as tan and heavily muscled.  He’d filled out slightly around his hips and stomach making the deep ‘v’ that traced his hipbones that much more pronounced.  Despite only minor physical changed, Sam seemed centuries older.  Gabriel had seen angels return from Hell’s battlefields with fewer scars body and soul.

         “Whatever you’re here for—“  Gabriel open his mouth to interrupt Sam but he frowned and kept rolling.  “Whatever you’re really here for.  I’ve had enough angels and demons banging around in my head for one lifetime.  Play with me again and I _will_ kill you.”  With that warning, Sam turned his back on the archangel and stepped into the stream.

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Thanks for reading! Please leave any thoughts or comments below. I'd love to hear from you.


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